I just wanted to enjoy my pancakes…

Living in New York City, I never realized just how culturally diverse it is compared to other parts of America.  I grew up with it, and it was never a big deal or something I actively noticed.  Last weekend, my friend who emigrated from Korea to America, starting in California then moving to New York, visited me because she was on break from the University of Notre Dame in Indiana.

She didn’t fit in with the Korean club because they claimed she was Korean-American, and not “Korean” enough.  She was telling me about a girl from Kansas who had never met an Asian before she met my friend.  She explained that it was like moving from one bubble to another, where there are different norms and stereotypes associated by race and cultural identity.

When I was eight, I went with my family a Chinatown bus tour that ended in Tennessee.  The restaurant complex we stopped at included a large Chinese restaurant where everyone on the bus flocked.  However, my Americanized family, who didn’t want to wait in long lines went to a local diner, where we were stared by the other customers and the waitress.  The waitress was polite enough, but they stared as we ordered and ate our home fries and pancakes.  My brother and I were young and didn’t realize it, but our parents rushed us in eating our food.

My friend’s visit reminded me of the one time I went to the “South” and it made me wonder people’s perspectives from middle America or anywhere away from cities and ports.  It interests me to hear how their perceptions are formed because now I feel like I’ve taken for granted the immigrant culture of New York.